READ STUDY GUIDE: Act V, scene iii |
|
Act V, Scene iii:
A churchyard; in it a Monument belonging to the
A churchyard; in it a Monument belonging to the
| Capulets.: |
| [Enter Paris, and his Page bearing flowers and a torch.] |
| Paris.: |
| Give me thy torch, boy: hence, and stand aloof;— |
| Yet put it out, for I would not be seen. |
| Under yond yew tree lay thee all along, |
| Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground; |
| So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread,— |
| Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves,— |
| But thou shalt hear it: whistle then to me, |
| As signal that thou hear'st something approach. |
| Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go. |
| Page.: |
| [Aside.] I am almost afraid to stand alone |
| Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure. |
| [Retires.] |
| Paris.: |
| Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew: |
 O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones! |
| Which with sweet water nightly I will dew; |
| Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans: |
| The obsequies that I for thee will keep, |
| Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep. |
| [The Page whistles.] |
| The boy gives warning something doth approach. |
| What cursed foot wanders this way to-night, |
| To cross my obsequies and true love's rite? |
| What, with a torch! muffle me, night, awhile. |
| [Retires.] |
| [Enter Romeo and Balthasar with a torch, mattock, &c.] |
| Romeo.: |
| Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron. |
| Hold, take this letter; early in the morning |
| See thou deliver it to my lord and father. |
| Give me the light; upon thy life I charge thee, |
| Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof |
| And do not interrupt me in my course. |
| Why I descend into this bed of death |
| Is partly to behold my lady's face, |
| But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger |
| A precious ring,—a ring that I must use |
| In dear employment: therefore hence, be gone:— |
| But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry |
| In what I further shall intend to do, |
| By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint, |
| And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs: |
| The time and my intents are savage-wild; |
| More fierce and more inexorable far |
| Than empty tigers or the roaring sea. |
| Balthasar.: |
| I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you. |
| Romeo.: |
| So shalt thou show me friendship.—Take thou that: |
| Live, and be prosperous: and farewell, good fellow. |
| Balthasar.: |
| For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout: |
| His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. |
| [Retires.] |
| Romeo.: |
| Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death, |
| Gorg'd with the dearest morsel of the earth, |
| Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open, |
| [Breaking open the door of the monument.] |
| And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food! |
| Paris.: |
| This is that banish'd haughty Montague |
| That murder'd my love's cousin,—with which grief, |
| It is supposed, the fair creature died,— |
| And here is come to do some villanous shame |
| To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.— |
| [Advances.] |
| Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague! |
| Can vengeance be pursu'd further than death? |
| Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee; |
| Obey, and go with me; for thou must die. |
| Romeo.: |
| I must indeed; and therefore came I hither.— |
| Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man; |
| Fly hence and leave me:—think upon these gone; |
| Let them affright thee.—I beseech thee, youth, |
| Put not another sin upon my head |
| By urging me to fury: O, be gone! |
| By heaven, I love thee better than myself; |
| For I come hither arm'd against myself: |
| Stay not, be gone;—live, and hereafter say, |
| A madman's mercy bid thee run away. |
| Paris.: |
| I do defy thy conjurations, |
| And apprehend thee for a felon here. |
| Romeo.: |
| Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy! |
| [They fight.] |
| Page.: |
| O lord, they fight! I will go call the watch. |
| [Exit.] |
| Paris.: |
| O, I am slain![Falls.]If thou be merciful, |
| Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. |
| [Dies.] |
| Romeo.: |
| In faith, I will.—Let me peruse this face:— |
| Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris!— |
| What said my man, when my betossed soul |
| Did not attend him as we rode? I think |
| He told me Paris should have married Juliet: |
| Said he not so? or did I dream it so? |
| Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet, |
| To think it was so?—O, give me thy hand, |
| One writ with me in sour misfortune's book! |
| I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave;— |
| A grave? O, no, a lanthorn, slaught'red youth, |
| For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes |
| This vault a feasting presence full of light. |
| Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd. |
| [Laying Paris in the monument.] |
| How oft when men are at the point of death |
| Have they been merry! which their keepers call |
| A lightning before death: O, how may I |
| Call this a lightning?—O my love! my wife! |
| Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, |
| Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: |
| Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet |
| Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, |
| And death's pale flag is not advanced there.— |
| Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet? |
| O, what more favour can I do to thee |
| Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain |
| To sunder his that was thine enemy? |
| Forgive me, cousin!—Ah, dear Juliet, |
| Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe |
| That unsubstantial death is amorous; |
| And that the lean abhorred monster keeps |
| Thee here in dark to be his paramour? |
| For fear of that I still will stay with thee, |
| And never from this palace of dim night |
| Depart again: here, here will I remain |
| With worms that are thy chambermaids: O, here |
| Will I set up my everlasting rest; |
| And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars |
| From this world-wearied flesh.—Eyes, look your last! |
| Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you |
| The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss |
| A dateless bargain to engrossing death!— |
| Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide! |
| Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on |
| The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark! |
| Here's to my love![Drinks.]—O true apothecary! |
| Thy drugs are quick.—Thus with a kiss I die. |
| [Dies.] |
| [Enter, at the other end of the Churchyard, Friar Lawrence, witha lantern, crow, and spade.] |
| Friar.: |
| Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night |
| Have my old feet stumbled at graves!—Who's there? |
| Who is it that consorts, so late, the dead? |
| Balthasar.: |
| Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well. |
| Friar.: |
| Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend, |
| What torch is yond that vainly lends his light |
| To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern, |
| It burneth in the Capels' monument. |
| Balthasar.: |
| It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master, |
| One that you love. |
| Friar.: |
| Who is it? |
| Balthasar.: |
| Romeo. |
| Friar.: |
| How long hath he been there? |
| Balthasar.: |
| Full half an hour. |
| Friar.: |
| Go with me to the vault. |
| Balthasar.: |
| I dare not, sir; |
| My master knows not but I am gone hence; |
| And fearfully did menace me with death |
| If I did stay to look on his intents. |
| Friar.: |
| Stay then; I'll go alone:—fear comes upon me; |
| O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing. |
| Balthasar.: |
| As I did sleep under this yew tree here, |
| I dreamt my master and another fought, |
| And that my master slew him. |
| Friar.: |
| Romeo![Advances.] |
| Alack, alack! what blood is this which stains |
| The stony entrance of this sepulchre?— |
| What mean these masterless and gory swords |
| To lie discolour'd by this place of peace? |
| [Enters the monument.] |
| Romeo! O, pale!—Who else? what, Paris too? |
| And steep'd in blood?—Ah, what an unkind hour |
| Is guilty of this lamentable chance!—The lady stirs. |
| [Juliet wakes and stirs.] |
| Juliet.: |
| O comfortable friar! where is my lord?— |
| I do remember well where I should be, |
| And there I am:—where is my Romeo? |
| [Noise within.] |
| Friar.: |
| I hear some noise.—Lady, come from that nest |
| Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep: |
| A greater power than we can contradict |
| Hath thwarted our intents:—come, come away! |
| Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead; |
| And Paris too:—come, I'll dispose of thee |
| Among a sisterhood of holy nuns: |
| Stay not to question, for the watch is coming. |
| Come, go, good Juliet[noise within],—I dare no longer stay. |
| Juliet.: |
| Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.— |
| [Exit Friar Lawrence.] |
| What's here? a cup, clos'd in my true love's hand? |
| Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end:— |
| O churl! drink all, and left no friendly drop |
| To help me after?—I will kiss thy lips; |
| Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, |
| To make me die with a restorative. |
| [Kisses him.] |
| Thy lips are warm! |
| 1 Watch. |
| [Within.] Lead, boy:—which way? |
| Juliet.: |
| Yea, noise?—Then I'll be brief.—O happy dagger! |
| [Snatching Romeo's dagger.] |
| This is thy sheath[stabs herself]; there rest, and let me die. |
| [Falls on Romeo's body and dies.] |
| [Enter Watch, with the Page of Paris.] |
| Page.: |
| This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn. |
| 1 Watch. |
| The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard: |
| Go, some of you, whoe'er you find attach. |
| [Exeunt some of the Watch.] |
| Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain;— |
| And Juliet bleeding; warm, and newly dead, |
| Who here hath lain this two days buried.— |
| Go, tell the prince;—run to the Capulets,— |
| Raise up the Montagues,—some others search:— |
| [Exeunt others of the Watch.] |
| We see the ground whereon these woes do lie; |
| But the true ground of all these piteous woes |
| We cannot without circumstance descry. |
| [Re-enter some of the Watch with Balthasar.] |
| 2 Watch. |
| Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard. |
| 1 Watch. |
| Hold him in safety till the prince come hither. |
| [Re-enter others of the Watch with Friar Lawrence.] |
| 3 Watch. |
| Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs, and weeps: |
| We took this mattock and this spade from him |
| As he was coming from this churchyard side. |
| 1 Watch. |
| A great suspicion: stay the friar too. |
| [Enter the Prince and Attendants.] |
| Prince.: |
| What misadventure is so early up, |
| That calls our person from our morning's rest? |
| [Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and others.] |
| Capulet.: |
| What should it be, that they so shriek abroad? |
| Lady Capulet. |
| The people in the street cry Romeo, |
| Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run, |
| With open outcry, toward our monument. |
| Prince.: |
| What fear is this which startles in our ears? |
| 1 Watch. |
| Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain; |
| And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, |
| Warm and new kill'd. |
| Prince.: |
| Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes. |
| 1 Watch. |
| Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man, |
| With instruments upon them fit to open |
| These dead men's tombs. |
| Capulet.: |
| O heaven!—O wife, look how our daughter bleeds! |
| This dagger hath mista'en,—for, lo, his house |
| Is empty on the back of Montague,— |
| And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom! |
| Lady Capulet. |
| O me! this sight of death is as a bell |
| That warns my old age to a sepulchre. |
| [Enter Montague and others.] |
| Prince.: |
| Come, Montague; for thou art early up, |
| To see thy son and heir more early down. |
| Montague.: |
| Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; |
| Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath: |
| What further woe conspires against mine age? |
| Prince.: |
| Look, and thou shalt see. |
| Montague.: |
| O thou untaught! what manners is in this, |
| To press before thy father to a grave? |
| Prince.: |
| Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while, |
| Till we can clear these ambiguities, |
| And know their spring, their head, their true descent; |
| And then will I be general of your woes, |
| And lead you even to death: meantime forbear, |
| And let mischance be slave to patience.— |
| Bring forth the parties of suspicion. |
| Friar.: |
| I am the greatest, able to do least, |
| Yet most suspected, as the time and place |
| Doth make against me, of this direful murder; |
| And here I stand, both to impeach and purge |
| Myself condemned and myself excus'd. |
| Prince.: |
| Then say at once what thou dost know in this. |
| Friar.: |
| I will be brief, for my short date of breath |
| Is not so long as is a tedious tale. |
| Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet; |
| And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife: |
| I married them; and their stol'n marriage day |
| Was Tybalt's doomsday, whose untimely death |
| Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this city; |
| For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pin'd. |
| You, to remove that siege of grief from her, |
| Betroth'd, and would have married her perforce, |
| To County Paris:—then comes she to me, |
| And with wild looks, bid me devise some means |
| To rid her from this second marriage, |
| Or in my cell there would she kill herself. |
| Then gave I her, so tutored by my art, |
| A sleeping potion; which so took effect |
| As I intended, for it wrought on her |
| The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo |
| That he should hither come as this dire night, |
| To help to take her from her borrow'd grave, |
| Being the time the potion's force should cease. |
| But he which bore my letter, Friar John, |
| Was stay'd by accident; and yesternight |
| Return'd my letter back. Then all alone |
| At the prefixed hour of her waking |
| Came I to take her from her kindred's vault; |
| Meaning to keep her closely at my cell |
| Till I conveniently could send to Romeo: |
| But when I came,—some minute ere the time |
| Of her awaking,—here untimely lay |
| The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. |
| She wakes; and I entreated her come forth |
| And bear this work of heaven with patience: |
| But then a noise did scare me from the tomb; |
| And she, too desperate, would not go with me, |
| But, as it seems, did violence on herself. |
| All this I know; and to the marriage |
| Her nurse is privy: and if ought in this |
| Miscarried by my fault, let my old life |
| Be sacrific'd, some hour before his time, |
| Unto the rigour of severest law. |
| Prince.: |
| We still have known thee for a holy man.— |
| Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this? |
| Balthasar.: |
| I brought my master news of Juliet's death; |
| And then in post he came from Mantua |
| To this same place, to this same monument. |
| This letter he early bid me give his father; |
| And threaten'd me with death, going in the vault, |
| If I departed not, and left him there. |
| Prince.: |
| Give me the letter,—I will look on it.— |
| Where is the county's page that rais'd the watch?— |
| Sirrah, what made your master in this place? |
| Boy.: |
| He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave; |
| And bid me stand aloof, and so I did: |
| Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb; |
| And by-and-by my master drew on him; |
| And then I ran away to call the watch. |
| Prince.: |
| This letter doth make good the friar's words, |
| Their course of love, the tidings of her death: |
| And here he writes that he did buy a poison |
| Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal |
| Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.— |
| Where be these enemies?—Capulet,—Montague,— |
| See what a scourge is laid upon your hate, |
| That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love! |
| And I, for winking at your discords too, |
| Have lost a brace of kinsmen:—all are punish'd. |
| Capulet.: |
| O brother Montague, give me thy hand: |
| This is my daughter's jointure, for no more |
| Can I demand. |
| Montague.: |
| But I can give thee more: |
| For I will raise her statue in pure gold; |
| That while Verona by that name is known, |
| There shall no figure at such rate be set |
| As that of true and faithful Juliet. |
| Capulet.: |
| As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie; |
| Poor sacrifices of our enmity! |
| Prince.: |
| A glooming peace this morning with it brings; |
| The sun for sorrow will not show his head. |
| Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; |
| Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished; |
| For never was a story of more woe |
| Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. |
| [Exeunt.] |
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